


The Spirit of Christmas

by wakeupstiles



Series: 12 Days of Teen Wolf Femslash Christmas 2015 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Christmas AU, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Ghosts, Heartbreak, Jennifer is a cardio surgeon, Major character death - Freeform, Sorry Not Sorry, Supernatural - Freeform, Young Love, and it's sad, it's a children's hospital so no adult patients (idk if that's important but), kali is a nurse, malia and co. are inpatients at a hospital, melissa is a general OR surgeon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakeupstiles/pseuds/wakeupstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. McCall shook her head, put her hand over Jennifer’s. “There’s nothing we can do. Call it. You need to call it.” She urged.</p><p>Dr. Blake was silent for a few seconds, looking from her friend to the girl she was supposed to save. Finally, her shoulders sagged in defeat and she mumbled, “Time of death 2036.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spirit of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> i do not know medical terms/how a real hospital works/the ranks of doctors at real life hospitals. all my knoweledge comes from grey's anatomy and the various other medical dramas i watch. so if i get something wrong, excuse it. this is only fanfiction after all.

“This is _bullshit._ ” The young girl grumbled as she paced around the decently sized hospital room, her hands bawled up in tight fists and the vein in her neck pulsing with fury.

“It’s okay.” The other girl sighed lowly from the bed. She was sitting up, flipping through the TV channels, trying to distract herself from Allison’s tangent. It wasn’t working, needless to say.

The curly haired brunette whipped around to her, eyes blazing and body shaking. “No, this is bullshit. I’m pissed. I want to scream.” Her voice shook, broke a little towards the end of her words.

Malia looked up at her, her dark eyes softening when she registered the anxiety and fear all through her girlfriend’s features. “It’s no one’s fault.” She assured gently, then scooted over in her bed and patted the open space for the fair skinned girl to lie beside her.

“It’s that damn donors fault—or the people who brought their goddamn heart here. It’s their fault.”

“Shit happens sometimes and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“You need that heart.” She whispered, not looking at her.

Malia gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “I’ll be fine for a few more weeks.”

Allison looked up at her then, recognized the lie coming out of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around Malia’s torso, put her head on her chest. “No you won’t.” She mumbled, the truth of the words causing her heart to constrict and a surge of tingles to spread through every fiber of her body.

The tan girl rolled her eyes, though her girlfriend couldn’t see it. “Such the optimist.” She muttered, twirling her fingers through the brunette’s soft hair.

“I mean, what happens if you’re not?” Allison questioned.

“I will be.” She replied, though Allison couldn’t tell if the sureness in her voice was false or not and neither could Malia.

They were silent for a few seconds, lying together, holding each other. Malia with her chin on Allison’s head and Allison resting on Malia’s chest, their arms tight around each other, so tight that not even the force of the world could break them apart if it dared.

Everyone warned them that hospital romances were a horrible idea. That they would never work, that sooner or later someone would end up getting their heartbroken one way or another. Everyone warned them; doctors, nurses, other patients, their parents, warned them that the pain wasn’t worth it in the end. _Haven’t you seen The Fault In Our Stars? Heartbreak and tragedy._ They believed them, they really did, but they couldn’t help themselves.

It wasn’t love at first sight, Malia didn’t believe in that.

It wasn’t fate, Allison didn’t believe in that.

But it was something strong and real and raw and they tried to stay friends and they tried to not act on their feelings but they couldn’t pretend what they felt for each other was platonic. Dr. Blake told them time and time again to be careful, to prepare themselves for when it would go wrong. The woman wasn’t being malicious, she was being realistic, the two girls knew it, too, which was why they didn’t argue with her, and instead nodded with smiles. They were both ticking time bombs, Allison with her bum lungs and Malia with her dying heart. They could die at any moment, they had come to terms with that, which was why they had to keep what they had alive for as long as Life allowed them. They gave each other hope. They made each other feel immortal, that the chance to lead normal lives out in the world, together, was real. They strived for it.

 _“You needed that heart.”_ Allison whispered after a while.

“I know.” Malia whispered back in disappointment. A few hours ago she was being prepped for a heart transplant, but it was terminated because the heart she would have been receiving had a tear in it. They couldn’t replace her dying heart with another dead one.

“I’m so pissed.” The pale girl growled, tightening her arms around her girlfriend.

Malia nodded considerably. “So am I, but there’s nothing to be done now. I’m still on the top of the list—I’ll be okay.”

“Where’s your fucking Christmas Miracle?” The dark haired girl demanded glumly.

“Maybe someone else has it.” The blonde suggested.

Allison scoffed, clicked her tongue. “Yeah, well, that someone else can go fuck themselves.” She retorted.

Malia chuckled, tapped her fingers on Allison’s back. “I’ll be okay.” She repeated it like a mantra, thought that maybe if she said it enough times that it would be true.

 

* * *

 

 

But she wasn’t okay.

Thirty minutes later she started coughing up blood, then went into cardiac arrest. Allison screamed for the nurses, wailed for Dr. Blake, who came rushing into the room with a crash cart and torn faces. They shocked her heart three times, got a little blip of a beat, then rushed her away to an OR, her pulse just a whisper. Allison was left standing alone in Malia’s room, her own heart beating erratically, her breaths coming out in little gasps.

“Baby,” She looked up to see the charge nurse, Kali coming into the room, her face sullen. “Let’s clean you up.” Allison looked down at herself, saw splatters of blood on her hands and clothes. Malia’s blood. She started shaking and her eyes filled with tears as Kali put her palm on her back and gently led her out of the empty room.

 

* * *

 

 

Malia stood in the corner of the OR, watching the doctors and nurses scurry like ants trying to set up and save her before it was too late. But she already knew. She knew before they wheeled her into the surgery room. She knew before Dr. Blake cracked her chest open and started cutting into her. She knew before her stats started plummeting.

_Dropping._

_Dropping._

_Dropping._

_Flat line._

“Clear!”

_Flat line._

“Clear!”

_Flat line._

“Push three of Epi. Clear!”

_Flat line._

There was a pull people always talked about. When they were dead on the surgery table and the doctors were shocking their heart to get them back. There was a pull they felt to come back. For their souls to go back into their home. Malia didn’t feel that pull. She didn’t feel anything. It was like the string connecting her spirit to her body had been cut, and now there was nothing holding her there anymore.

“Push another—“

“Jennifer,” Dr. McCall’s gentle voice cut through the room, silencing the other woman. Dr. Blake looked up at her with watery eyes. “Call it.” Dr. McCall took the paddles from Dr. Blake’s hands, set them down on the table.

She shook her head. “N-no, we can’t—we can’t—she can,” She looked down at Malia on the table, her chest wide open for everyone to see her failed heart. “Melissa,” The brunette looked back up at the other woman, her voice a mess.

Dr. McCall shook her head, put her hand over Jennifer’s. “There’s nothing we can do. Call it. You need to call it.” She urged.

Dr. Blake was silent for a few seconds, looking from her friend to the girl she was supposed to save. This sixteen year old girl, with so much life left to live, with so much love in her world, dead. She would never smile again. She would never laugh. She would never talk to her dad, or her friends, or Allison. She would never joke about Jennifer’s love life or complain about how horrible the Jello was. She would never be again. Jennifer had tried. She had tried to save her, tried to give her another chance, but it wasn’t supposed to work out that way She hated this part of the job.

 _"We’re doctors, not god."_ Melissa had told her after her first loss.

 _"We’re surgeons, we’re better than god."_ Jennifer had replied back, washing the blood off her hands.

 _"With a mindset like that, every loss is going to rip you to shreds."_ The other woman sighed, then walked away.

And she had been right; every loss hurt more than the other, and every win was just a little pat on the back. Everyone raved about the winning part. No one prepared her for the losing part.

Finally, Jennifer’s shoulders sagged in defeat and she mumbled, “Time of death 2036.”

 

* * *

 

 

They lied; there was no blinding light to lead her into the afterlife. There was no afterlife, period, at least, not right now.

Right now Malia was roaming the hospital hallways absentmindedly. She didn’t know where she was going until she saw Erica throwing things in her room and Boyd trying to calm her down, both with tear streaks down their faces. Then she saw Lydia and Kira curled up on the couch in the game room, holding each other and sobbing silently. She’d grown close to all four of them in her time at the hospital. They were her best friends and the best people she’d ever met. And now she would never get to laugh with them again or sneak up to the roof with them on clear nights to lay on the concrete and get drunk off the ideas of finally being free from their illnesses.

The pain of that realization hit her like a million bricks.

Then she found herself in the break room, watching Dr. Blake pacing back and forth, pulling at her hair, screaming through a clenched jaw. Kali, her girlfriend, was sitting on the bed, Malia’s phone in her lap.

“Do you want me to call?” She asked softly.

Jennifer stopped pacing, shook her head. “No,” She sat down on the bed, took the phone with a shaky hand. “I—I need to be the one to do it.” She took a deep breath, held it in, then let it go with violent sob escaping with it. The woman leaned her head on Kali’s shoulder and the dark skinned woman held her, began rocking them back and forth in some type of comfort.

Dr. Blake had been Malia’s doctor ever since her heart failure was caught; around ten years. She was more like a mom to her than a doctor, really. She was always so strong and unwavering, even when things weren’t the brightest. Now she was a sobbing, broken mess, and Malia had been the cause of it.

She would never forgive herself.

The last place she was pulled to was Allison’s room. Her girlfriend sat on her bed, a pillow to her chest, crying silently and alone.

“You shouldn’t be dead; this isn’t right.” The brunette mumbled to herself.

“People die; it happens. It sucks, but it happens.” Malia retorted. Allison’s head snapped up and her eyes went bug eyed as she saw her dead girlfriend standing in the doorway of her room. Malia’s body grew rigid and her face warped into shock when it dawned on her that the other girl could see her.

“Y-you’re…dead.” She stated hoarsely.

Malia nodded slowly and walked into the room. “Yeah, I am.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I…guess so.”

Allison put the pillow down, stood and crossed the room to stand in front of her girlfriend. She stuck a hand out, placed it on her shoulder but it went right through her. Her dark eyes shifted to Malia’s face, still wide with wonder. “How is this possible?”

She short haired blonde gave a little shrug. “Unfinished business?” She suggested. Allison furrowed her brows, but stayed silent so that she could continue. Malia took a deep breath, then said, “You have to move on.”

Allison narrowed her eyes. “You want me to forget about you?” She practically hissed.

The other girl smiled a little, shook her head. “No, not forgot, just move on. I’m dead and you’re alive and you’re going to live.”

“How do you know that?” She questioned.

Malia gave a little shrug again. “I just do.” Because she did. She knew. “You’re going to live and it’s going to be hard but you have to do it. If not for yourself then for me and our friends and your family. Okay?” Allison looked away from her, tears spilling from her eyes. Malia wanted nothing more than to reach up and wipe them away, but that was impossible. “Please,” She begged. Allison gave a tiny nod, rubbed her eyes. “What we had was amazing but it’s not over for you. I love you. You loved me. I’m dead. You move on and love again.”

The brunette looked up at her, red faced and swollen eyed. “I’ll try.” She finally admitted, and Malia believed her.

And that’s when she felt the pull. It was small at first, like a tug, and then it grew stronger within seconds. Malia turned her head towards the door of the room. “I think…I think I have to leave now.”

Allison reached for her, but it was useless. “I don’t want you to go yet.” Her voice cracked.

She looked back to her, a small, sad half smile on her face. “I have to. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then she turned and walked through the door and everything was bright and warm and promised to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i figured it was time for a sad xmas fic lol


End file.
